


Not My Time/Type

by frankiesin



Series: Say It With Neon [8]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Breezy Shows Up And It Hurts, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Pre-Panic!, Trans Character, You guys know where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiesin/pseuds/frankiesin
Summary: Spencer wakes up in Las Vegas in 2001. He's not going to mess up the past. He's pretty sure he's done enough messing up in the future.





	Not My Time/Type

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about that one THROAM ficlet where Ryan goes back in time and meets bb!Brendon and how it would have been a lot better if, ya know, there hadn't been underage sex. Also, I hate that every time travel fic involves one character fucking the past!other character. So instead, have this. 
> 
> It's not canon in MM17. That universe has enough going on as it is. This is just for funsies.

**August 18, 2014; Montgomery, Alabama.**

 

The bus was relatively quiet, but Spencer still felt like there was something pounding against his head. He felt like shit, and figured that had something to do with Atlanta. Ever since he and Mikey had been in the city together three years ago, Atlanta had been Spencer’s city to get fucked up in. Last night wasn’t different, except that Spencer was trying not to do that anymore. 

 

“I’m gonna go back to the bunks,” he said. He squeezed Dallon’s shoulder on his way out, hoping that Dallon wouldn’t follow him back. They’d been looking at Spencer worriedly since he woke up that morning, and Spencer wasn’t a fan. He and Dallon were kind of together, but they also kind of weren’t together. It was complicated. Spencer was the one making it complicated, because he was a little fucked up and he was holding Dallon at arm’s length so that they wouldn’t realise it. 

 

He pulled the curtain shut on his own bunk and stared up at the ceiling. Spencer felt like he was living on the edge of a cliff, and waiting for something to either push him off or drag him back away from the edge. He didn’t like it. He just wanted some kind of conclusion, or answer, or anything that would make his life a little easier. Spencer wanted to be able to be with Dallon, and not feel like he had to hide himself from them. 

 

He rolled over onto his side, towards the wall. Spencer rubbed a hand over his face, and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he’d fall asleep. His head hurt too much for that. 

 

* * *

 

**August 15, 2001; Las Vegas, Nevada.**

 

Spencer woke up to someone throwing him out of his bunk. Except, when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in a bunk at all. He was in someone’s bedroom, and he didn’t recognise it at all. That was bad. 

 

Spencer sat up and looked around. “What the hell?”

 

“Who are you and why are you in my bed?” a voice squeaked from behind him. Spencer turned around to see Dallon holding their sheets in their hands. Spencer was sitting on the other end of the sheets, which explained how he’d ended up on the floor. It did not explain why he and Dallon were in some random bedroom, or why Dallon had buzzed all of their hair off. 

 

Spencer made a face. “Why’d you cut your hair off?”

 

“I didn’t,” Dallon said. They slowly let go of the sheets. “Do I know you?”

 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, and rolled his eyes, because if this was a prank, it was a shitty one and Spencer was not a fan. “I’m Spencer? We’re in a band together? And we’re sleeping together, too, in case you forgot that.”

 

Dallon’s eyes widened, and their face went red. Spencer narrowed his eyes at them for a second, and realised that they looked a lot younger than usual. There was no way that was possible unless someone had given them a lot of moisturizer. They had a complete baby face, and Spencer felt like he’d fallen back in time to when he was sixteen and met Dallon for the first time. 

 

“I’m not--I’ve never had sex,” Dallon stuttered out while Spencer was still trying to put everything together. “With  _ anyone _ . What’s going on?”

 

Spencer stood up, slowly. He was still shorter than Dallon, so at least that hadn’t changed. “What year is it?”

 

“Two-thousand one…?” Dallon said. They furrowed their eyebrows. “What… are you a time-traveller?”

 

“Apparently,” he said. He reached out and gently touched Dallon’s hair without thinking about it. It was still really soft, but there was gel in it now and that felt wrong under Spencer’s fingers. “I’m from 2014. Or I was. We’re friends then. We haven’t met yet, in your time.”

 

“Oh,” Dallon said. He was still red in the face. “How. Um. When do we meet?”

 

“When I’m sixteen and you roast me constantly for having a crush on you,” Spencer said. He figured that Dallon wouldn’t still remember that in three years. A lot happened between now and Dallon meeting Spencer in Dallon’s timeline. 

 

Spencer dropped his gaze from Dallon’s hair to his eyes. This Dallon had no idea what was coming for them. They didn’t know about the Brobecks, or getting expelled from college, or Breezy or Brendon or Panic! at the Disco. They didn’t know anything. They were barely twenty years old, and they’d never kissed a guy before. Spencer swallowed, thickly, knowing he couldn’t tell them anything because it would mess up the timeline or whatever, but wanting to. If he could tell Dallon the right thing, maybe they could keep Breezy from killing herself. 

 

Hell, maybe Breezy was in Vegas right now. Dallon and Brendon said she’d moved back here from LA when she was seventeen or so. She had to be here somewhere, and maybe Spencer and this Dallon could fix things and give her the future she’d deserved. 

 

“You have a crush on  _ me _ ?” Dallon said. They didn’t know. Spencer couldn’t change things. He wasn’t God.

 

“Yeah,” Spencer said. He dropped his hand from Dallon’s hair. “Surprise, we’re both gay. I’m… I’m bisexual, actually, or at least I’m pretty sure I’m bi. I just end up with guys a lot.”

 

“I already knew that,” Dallon said. They glanced over their shoulder, at the door. “But, uh, do me a favour, okay? Don’t… don’t do anything here. My parents can’t know. They’d kick me out, and I don’t really have a job or a plan yet.”

 

“You’ll figure it out,” Spencer said, and wondered if punching Dallon’s parents would mess up the timeline too much. 

 

“You sound pretty sure of that,” Dallon said, and looked back at Spencer. They raised their eyebrow, and it was odd, because they had the same expressions as Spencer’s Dallon, but they looked so much younger. They were curious and naive here, unlike Spencer’s Dallon, who would have been bitter. “Are you still in my life in 2014?”

 

“Well, I said we were sleeping together, so…” Spencer said. He couldn’t say too much. 

 

“You can sleep with someone and not be with them,” Dallon said. “I’m not a child. I know how the world works.”

 

“You know, I said that to you when we first met and you laughed at me. I could laugh at you, too, because I’m older than you and I know you’re gonna learn a lot of shit,” Spencer said. Dallon blushed harder, and Spencer shook his head. “Not… I mean, yes, you do learn about sex shit, but I meant about life. And that anyone can disappoint you.”

 

“Even you?” Dallon said. 

 

Spencer frowned, and felt his heart twisting around in his chest. “Especially me.”

 

“We… I mean, we work it out, right?” Dallon said. They looked Spencer up and down, and Spencer wondered if he was the kind of guy a twenty year old Dallon would have been into. “Not to be weird, but you’re an attractive guy, and you said we were in a band together, so I mean… we have to make it work somehow, don’t we?”

 

“Yeah. We make it work,” Spencer said. He was telling half of the truth. Panic! at the Disco worked for now, but it hadn’t always, and it was partially Dallon’s fault. It was everyone’s fault, really, but Dallon had gone cold after the split and they’d drawn more into themself. They were a very different person at the age of twenty. Spencer tried to give Dallon a reassuring smile. “It’s… it’s not easy, but we figure it out. We’re a bunch of stubborn assholes; the whole band is, really.”

 

“What kind of band are we?” Dallon said. They leaned against the wall. “What kind of music do we make? And are we still in Vegas?”

 

“Uh, we move around a bit,” Spencer said. “Chicago, Seattle, Vegas, I work in London for about a year, and right now we’re all in LA but that could change. I don’t know.”

 

“Cool,” Dallon said. They smiled. “London sounds cool. Did you like it?”

 

“For the most part,” Spencer said. 

 

“Did you meet any British actors, or were you busy doing music stuff?” 

 

Spencer laughed. Of course this Dallon was into British shit. His Dallon watched every Doctor Who episode they could get their hands on and knew more about British television than any person should have. He shouldn’t have been surprised. “No, I didn’t meet any actors. I was doing music stuff. And other stuff. I wasn’t there publicly, and I was trying to fly under the radar.”

 

Dallon’s eyes widened. “So we get famous?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Spencer said. “It’s kind of terrifying.”

 

“Do people know that we’re… you know,” Dallon said. 

 

Spencer didn’t know. Dallon could have been talking about them and Spencer being gay, or the two of them in a relationship. The world knew the first one, and had suspicions about the second one because the band was hiding their romances. Spencer shrugged. “Yeah. Not, like, in your faces kind out outedness. But people know who we are.”

 

“Is it better in the future?” Dallon asked. All the shyness and innocence was gone. Spencer could see the beaten down person Dallon was going to become, and he remembered that being gay aged people differently. Dallon looked tired, and a little scared of their own future. “For people like us, I mean.”

 

“Well, we can get married in a few states, but not everywhere,” Spencer said. “But overall, yeah. It’s pretty okay.”

 

Relief washed over Dallon’s face, and Spencer pulled them in for a hug before he could stop himself. He was probably confusing Dallon, because he’d just told them that things would get better, and now he was hugging Dallon like things were going to get worse. Things were going to get worse for Dallon, though, before they got better and then went in every direction. Spencer just wanted this Dallon to know that they were loved and that they weren’t alone in the world. That was all. 

 

“What… what are you doing?” 

 

“I have a lot of emotions,” Spencer said to Dallon’s shoulder. 

 

“That’s okay,” Dallon said, and hugged Spencer back. They kissed Spencer’s cheek. “Emotions are good.”

 

“You should save that,” Spencer said, without letting go of Dallon. “Your first kiss, I mean. It’s… it’s important.”

 

“I’m not going to kiss you,” Dallon said, and laughed. Spencer could feel their face heating back up again. “I get to do it later. I can wait.”

 

“You’re something else,” Spencer said. He pulled back from them and looked them over again. He was in Las Vegas, in 2001, and everyone he knew was here. Rochelle was somewhere, probably at his old house or locked up in her room and hiding away from her dad. Brendon was somewhere else, with his parents and his four older siblings, unaware that they’d kick him out in a few years and never call him back. Breezy was out there too. Spencer hadn’t met her, but he knew her through Dallon and Brendon. 

 

Spencer smiled softly at them. “You’re going to change the fucking world.”

 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that,” Dallon said. They tapped the side of their head. “Timelines, and all that.”

 

“I know. But I didn’t tell you the details, so you can’t cheat your way into the future,” Spencer said. He squeezed Dallon’s shoulder. “I should probably go now, though. I’m from Vegas originally, and there are a few places I want to visit before I get dragged back to my own time.”

 

“Mind if I come with you?” Dallon said. They lifted up a set of car keys from their dresser. “It’s not my own car, but I do have one. I don’t think my brother will mind too much, since he’s out doing adult stuff with our parents.”

 

“Sure,” Spencer said. He followed Dallon out of their room, and recognised the living room immediately. The pictures around the TV were a little different, but the couch was the same and there was still a blanket draped over it. Spencer toed the patch of carpet that he’d set his suitcase on, but there weren’t any marks there yet. 

 

Dallon opened the door to the garage, and Spencer looked around. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Where’s the Brobecks van?”

 

“The what?” Dallon asked. They walked across the garage to a boring looking grey car. 

 

Spencer shook his head. Dallon didn’t have the Brobecks van yet. They didn’t even know what a Brobeck was at this point. “Never mind. Future stuff. You have a different car when I meet you.”

 

“Is it a good car?”

 

“The best,” Spencer said. The Brobecks van was a soccer mom minivan with a bright purple, sparkly paint job. In its later years, it jumped when shifting between gears. Objectively speaking, it was a shitty car. Spencer wasn’t objective person, though, and he knew all the stories that came along with the Brobecks van. It was the birthplace of his and Dallon’s band, and Rochelle and Jon had had sex in the trunk after getting Pete to sign them. Spencer had kissed Brendon for the first time in that van, and he’d learned to love 80’s music in it as well. It was special. Spencer missed it. 

 

Dallon got in the driver seat, and Spencer got in the passenger. Dallon turned on the car, and Spencer laughed when  _ The Power of Love _ came on. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the cupholders. “This was in  _ Back to the Future _ . That’s fucking hilarious.”

 

“It’s appropriate, that’s for sure,” Dallon said. They pulled out of the garage. “Where’re we going first, Spencer?”

 

Spencer gave them Rochelle’s address, and then the directions to her dad’s house, because he still remembered how Summerlin was laid out even though he hadn’t lived there for years. Rochelle’s house was the same as it always had been. Spencer made Dallon wait out in the car, because he didn’t want them to meet Rochelle too early, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got out of the car either. 

 

The house was one story, with Rochelle’s room facing the backyard and her dad’s facing the street. Her dad’s curtains were closed, and so Spencer walked up to the front door and knocked. If he had been his teenage self, he would have walked around to the back and jumped in through her window. Spencer figured that a teenage Rochelle wouldn’t appreciate a grown man sneaking in through her window. 

 

The door opened wide enough for Spencer to see Rochelle’s eyes peeking through at him. Spencer froze. She narrowed her eyes at him. She looked wrong with short, spiky hair and tiny gauged ears. Rochelle tilted her head to the side. “Can I help you?”

 

“I…” Spencer said. He didn’t know what to say to her. “Sorry. I think I’m at the wrong house.”

 

“Okay. Who were you looking for?” she said, and opened the door a little bit more. She leaned against the doorframe and looked him up and down, judging him. She had no idea who he was, because this Rochelle was used to her best friend being a teenage girl with long hair and bracelets from Claire’s. 

 

“Rochelle Walker,” Spencer said. He was looking for her, but Rochelle wasn’t there. Not yet. He swallowed. “It’s… it’s fine, though. Sorry for bothering you.”

 

“I don’t care,” Rochelle said. “I have nothing better to do.”

 

She looked past Spencer, out to Dallon’s car. “Are you a Mormon?”

 

“What? No,” Spencer said. He didn’t look like a Mormon. “No, I’m just lost. Have a good day.”

 

“You too, I guess,” Rochelle said before giving him a final look of judgement and closing the door. 

 

Spencer went back down to the car and got back in. He told Dallon the address of the church where they’d met Breezy, because he figured that that was his best shot at meeting her. He didn’t know where Brendon or Breezy had lived in Las Vegas. He’d never been to either of their houses, and he hadn’t asked. 

 

Dallon frowned when they pulled into the church parking lot. “This… this is a church.”

 

“Yeah,” Spencer said. “I. I grew up in this church. One of my friends should still be here, so… I’m gonna go in for a second.”

 

“Am I still staying out here?” Dallon asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Spencer said. “Sorry. I promise you’ll get to meet her eventually. I just don’t want to fuck things up.”

 

“Alright. Have fun in there,” Dallon said. 

 

Spencer got out of the car and walked across the parking lot, taking everything in as he did. Dallon had been here, or would be here eventually. The church didn’t look like it was the kind of place to hold diet conversion therapy sessions, but it was. Somewhere in this church, there were a bunch of people being yelled at to confess their sins. 

 

Spencer walked through the halls, looking into the various rooms as he went. There were paintings of the twelve disciples on either side of him, and they all looked like old dudes. Spencer wasn’t Christian, and he hadn’t been to a church service in years, but he was pretty sure that the disciples were all around Jesus’s age. They should have looked more like him and the Dallon outside than like old men. 

 

One of the rooms was lit up, and when Spencer looked through the window, he saw a bunch of people in a circle and two middle aged people standing up in front of them all. Spencer took a deep breath, and opened the door. The woman looked up. “Hello. May I help you?”

 

“I’m looking for Breezy Douglas?” Spencer said. He didn’t know her dead name. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have called her that. Not in front of these people. He knew how Breezy’s story ended, and he wasn’t going to play into their little game. 

 

The woman gave Spencer a sad smile. “I’m sorry. There’s no Breezy Douglas here.”

 

“That’s me,” a woman with shoulder length hair said, standing up. She’d clearly cut her bangs herself, because they weren’t very straight, and Spencer could tell that she was trans. But that was Breezy Douglas, in the flesh. She had her head held high, and her eyes were locked on Spencer. “What’s up?”

 

“Mind if I talk to you in the hallway for a moment?” Spencer said. He was making this up as much as she was, and he hoped she’d go through with it. 

 

“Not at all,” Breezy said. She grabbed her bag and strode out of the room. Her heeled boots clicked on the linoleum floor, and she slammed the door shut on her way out. She walked past Spencer, and he had no option but to follow her into a room a few doors down. Breezy shut that door too, and then she whirled around to glare at Spencer. “What the hell do you want, and how do you know me?”

 

“I’m a friend of a friend,” Spencer said, putting his hands up. “And I’m… I’m from the future.”

 

Breezy rolled her eyes. “Yeah right.”

 

“I’m serious,” he said. “I… your friends talked about you a lot, and when I realised I’d travelled into the past, I just… I wanted to meet you. Everyone who knew you said you were awesome.”

 

“I have a taser,” Breezy said, and then pulled it out to prove her point. “Prove yourself, so I don’t have to use it and cause a fucking scene.”

 

“Uh,” Spencer said, because he had no idea how to prove to her that he was being honest. Then he remembered that he had an iPhone in his pocket, with pictures dated from 2014, and he could use that. He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. The date still said 08/17/2014, so he showed Breezy that before opening it and going to his most recent picture. It was of him and Linda, wearing ridiculous drugstore sunglasses, and it was time-stamped as being from the first of the month. “Here. This is from a few weeks ago, in my timeline. It’s me and my friend, and it’s got a date and everything.”

 

“Is that what phones look like in the future?” Breezy said. She took the phone from Spencer after dropping her taser back into her bag. “Ooh, there’s a little camera! That’s cute.”

 

She held the phone up like it was a professional camera and then pressed the home button. Breezy frowned. “That’s. That’s not right.”

 

“Hold on,” Spencer said. He opened his phone again and took the picture himself, so that he and Breezy both were in it. Spencer didn’t know if it would still exist when he got back to his time. “It’s complicated if you’re not used to it. Don’t feel bad.”

 

“I don’t,” she said. She put her hands on her hips. “So, hot stuff. Why me?”

 

“I--”

 

“I know that people like me don’t do well in the real world, so obviously I’ve died by your time,” she said, and she sounded way too sure of herself about that. Spencer hated it. He hated that she had every reason to believe that trans people would never be able to live like the rest of the world. “So, how’d it happen? Dramatic? Sad? Pathetic?”

 

“I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you how you die,” Spencer said. 

 

Breezy rolled her eyes. “Come on. We all die. I just want to know what’s coming for me.”

 

_ You’re coming for yourself _ , Spencer thought. He swallowed. “Well. Um. It surprises everyone around you, and your friends miss you dearly. And, a few years later, you get an entire rock album dedicated to you. And you deserve every track.”

 

Breezy frowned. “You’re shitting me. Who would write music about me?”

 

“They’re outside, actually, but the two of you don’t meet for another few years,” Spencer said. “I’m pretty sure you’ll know who it is when you do meet them, too.”

 

“Do I ever get out of this shithole?” she asked. 

 

Spencer opened his mouth, and almost told her the truth. But then he remembered Rochelle, with her spiked hair that would later get flat-ironed half to death when it was long enough. He remembered how she’d cried when her academic counselor said she had no chance of getting a full scholarship to somewhere out of state and that UNLV was her best bet for college. He remembered the flood of depressing, heart-wrenching poems he’d found in her notebooks after that. 

 

Spencer smiled. “Yeah. You get out. And you’re just as awesome as everyone says you are.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
